Page Ten
THE MICHIGAN DAILY
Sunday, April 29, 1956 1
Page Ten.TH.M.CH.GAN'AILYSunda .:ari . 19 rIJ
in search of vice .. .
'I
REPORTER FINDS THE 'TOWNIE' BAR CAN BE A LONG WAY FROM
STATE STREET
By ROBERT F. JONES drinking beer in a bush beside the joints. They very rarely ventur
£XN THE oil-chance thai Ann Huron River-and no Vice. into the dark, quiet little bar:
0 N TE offchanc thatAnn 'Vice,"' I recall remarking to which serve the local crowd. On(
Arbor might prove "Confiden- myself, 'is a monster of such fear- evening in "townie" bar will t
tial" in the Lait and Mortimer ful mien that, were there any kick- you why.
sense, this writer set out one ing about, I'd spot it pronto."
weekend in search of Vice, My search didn't pay off in THE bartender grabs up a half
He found: many small bars, a terms of its original goal, but it dozen glasses which stand it
hobo-jungle, three old Germans did show me a new side to this fair varying stages of emptiness on the
playin Skat for pennies, a poker college town of ours. scarred brown wood. An elderly
game, no call-girls, an after-hours Student drinkers stick to their gentleman coughs stickily.
coffee shop, a co-educational group well-lighted, talk-packed beer "Whatta you want, fella?"
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ours exclusively in Ann Arbor
e "Gimme a beer." (I'm playing it often, Carter," says the withering
s tough on the assumption that any woman. "I get so cooped-up-feel-'
1 Vice-ridden folk are more likely ing, kinda."
to approach a mean-type guy than "Yes," says the old man. He
an obvious college student.)) watches Albert draw the beer with
- My beer stands before me, pale a look of fa.cination, The bowlers
and 'weating. I crouch over , finish their beer and file past to
'andswetin, Icroch veritthe door. One of them nods at the
e listening furtively. It is very quiet. old couple.
Y No one is saving anything. The Wd 'tt obts.
bartender lights a cigarette, faces "Wasn't that Norbert's son?"
the bar-mirror for a moment, asks the old woman.
scratches his chest, turns and "Looked like him," says Carter,
walks to the end of the bar. placing the beer ;lass to his lips.
He exchanges a quip or two with "He's a good boy, Carter. Nor-
>rey little man who stands with bert can well be proud of him. He's
an elbow on the bar. The grey got a good job at the market and
man's voice blurs flatly through a good wife."
the grey air. He sounds rather "All right," says Carter, tiredly,
drunk. The bar-man brings him "let's talk about Harry, then.
another glass of beer and rings You've been edging around it all
the cash-register, day long."
"Well, I just don't think hie
HE DOOR whips open, and five should do it." the woman says. She
sturdy types enter. They are shakes her head snappily, and her
carrying bowling balls in shiny wattles bounce. "She's not that
leather bags and wear colorful hard a woman to live with, and
team-jackets with the name of a nobody in our family has ever been
local market in script across their divorced."
backs. They stand in a row along "Harry's not a little boy any
more, Mother. He's almost not
"Hi, Albert." says one of the even our son any more."
bowlers, "Let's have a round of '"I know. But he's been married
draft." to her for ten years now, and he
"Gentlemen," says Albert. should be able to tolerate her.I
"Anyway, this guy keeps moan- mean, you have to be tolerant,
ing about this split he picked up Carter." Carter gestures to Albert
in the fourth frame," says one of and raises one finger. Albert nods
the bowlers. He's a thick man with and draws another beer.
square, hard-looking hands. "I "I want you to talk to Harry
felt like telling him . . . tomorrow. Be strict with him,
"Yeah. you felt like." Carter. He's always been an obedi-
"Well," says Hard-Hands, "the .nt boy."
thing is, he rolled over 500, and "All right, Mother. I'll talk to
he keeps moaning about this split." him."
The bowlerss drink their beer,
then stand quietly, shuffling their THE GREY MAN from the end
feet Albert brings them another of the bar began to sing some-
round, thing. His voice was very blurred,
An elderly couple enters the and there were no distinct words
tavern, The man is tall and skinny in the song. Albert put a nickle
and wears a sailor straw hat. The in the juke-box and the grey man's
woman is soft lookin", with skin song slid quickly under a wave of
like a leaking balloon She wears pulsing rock-and-roll.
a faded-blue print dr ess.I looked at my watch. No vice
inthis bar, I though. I might as
" GLASS of port wne for the well give it up as a bad job. I left
lady," says the old man. "'ll the tavern and walked half a block,
have a beer." Albert nods dutifully turned onto Washington Street
and turn to his wine-bottles. 1 and entered a college drinking
spot. It was loud and warm, and
"We should go out like this more there was a scurrying of waitresses.
and in the corner, glowing with the
Bob Jones, at one time the rashness of two pitchers too many,
unofficial Daily "Beer Editor," a group of obvious fraternity men
resumes his title to observe a were singing sickenly traditional
world of Ann Arbor far removed songs.
from the student's circle. Two worlds within a block of one
another, I thought.
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